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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117127">On Being Destined to be Different</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchipediaAus/pseuds/WitchipediaAus'>WitchipediaAus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sevias [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adoptive family, Community as Family, F/F, Genderqueer Dragonborn, Grey Quarter, Implied/Referenced Racism, M/M, Mostly narration, Origin Story, Rambling, Vampires, Werewolves, Windhelm (Elder Scrolls), though she goes by any pronouns, written for fun but also trying to be at least half accurate to the best of my ability so</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:01:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24117127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchipediaAus/pseuds/WitchipediaAus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I should know how,” Sevias insisted. “People come here all the time to pick on us. What if they get violent? What if I have to defend myself? The guards won’t help me, if they see it happen.” </p>
<p>Malthyr ran a hand through his hair, and she fought down a grin. She knew she’d win the ‘argument,’ at least with him, especially since all of her points were ones she’d taken from him. “And this is only for self-defense? No other things you’re trying to do?” </p>
<p>“Just self-defense,” She agreed.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Malthyr Elenil/Ambarys Rendar (implied), Original Redguard Character/Original Breton Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sevias [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740127</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Barely There Wear and Tear: 3-10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>prefacing this by saying, again, that i am writing this mostly for fun and so not everything is going to be entirely accurate. i'm also not going to put a lot of detail into the discrimination aspect, because it's a lot of work for something that is upsetting to me.</p>
<p>anyway, i hope you enjoy! i had fun writing it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sevias Render didn’t remember much, before moving in with Ambarys and Malthyr. She had been maybe three at the time, confused and lost, but after being alone for a few days, a familiar face was welcome no matter what else it brought.</p><p>So, she grew up in the New Gnisis Cornerclub. Admittedly, not the most child-friendly place, and at the time she’d been a little curious about the worry she saw on Ambarys’ face when he started setting things up for her. It was not her original home, not where her parents had lived, and she knew that even after she forgot what they looked like. But, slowly, the Cornerclub was home, and she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.</p><p>The others that lived in the Grey Quarter were around a lot, and she enjoyed that, even though they bickered amongst themselves most of the time. They were a community, Malthyr told her. They had each other's backs.</p><p>Yet even though she lived there, Ambarys didn’t like her being in the front at night, when everyone had come in. It was unfair, Sevias told him, and he only shook his head. She should be able to see and talk to the people she knew but rarely saw. Ambarys only ever told her that she was supposed to be asleep when they were there.</p><p>That much was true, but she still hated it. The others were quieter when she was ‘asleep’. Not by a lot, but there was an effort, and some part of her appreciated it, even if she couldn’t talk to them.</p><p> </p><p>The Cornerclub didn’t have very many holes, but there was one by where Sevias slept, tucked underneath the stairs and behind boxes on the first floor. Malthyr had covered it with a thin and small plank of wood, probably a scrap that he’d been able to find or get from someone else in the Quarter. She didn’t hear much about money or what was going on for the adults, being only five, but she knew they had enough for food and trading. There was some put aside for repairs, but Ambarys seemed reluctant to use it for some reason.</p><p>Sevias didn’t care about that, anyway. She liked her hole. It was useful when she couldn’t sleep and could only focus on the words that made it through the wall to her ears. It was simple to crawl out of her little bed and get to the plank of wood. Harder to set it aside without making too much of a noise, or moving too quick and catching someone’s eye, but she had enough practice at it now.</p><p>She couldn’t see much, out of the hole. Mostly Ambarys, behind the counter, and the corner of the room that Malthyr tended to stay in. But it brought comfort, and maybe she didn’t understand why it did, but she was content to continue doing it.</p><p> </p><p>No one ever told her what happened to her parents. She only asked a handful of times, over the years, mostly when she was eight and curious about things she hadn’t cared about before. It kept her up, trying to figure it out. She knew, even then, what dangers were presented just by existing. But staying up made Ambarys disappointed when he caught her, which she considered unfair. He stayed up all the time running the Cornerclub and had very little help in doing so. She rarely saw him sleep.</p><p>Ambarys and Malthyr reminded Sevias that she was the only child in the Grey Quarter her age a lot, though she usually didn’t understand why. One of the only times it seemed relevant was when it was about the older kids in the Quarter. Sometimes they let her play with them, which was fun to some end, but their games were hard to learn and harder to keep up with. They were also hard to talk to – she didn’t understand what they talked about, or some of their words. In the end, she wound up playing by herself in the snow outside of the Cornerclub most of the time.</p><p>The kids her age all lived outside of the Grey Quarter, and they avoided the place like being downtrodden was contagious, most likely at their parent's behest. And even if she thought they might have played with her, the elders of the community told her not to bring about trouble, and that meant not straying too far from home.</p><p>(Sometimes, when no one else was around, she thought she saw kids peeking around the corners of the edge of the Quarter, curious despite warnings and threats of trouble, but they were quick to duck away, if they had been there, when they saw her looking towards them.)</p><p> </p><p>When she was nine, Malthyr let her do chores around the building when no outsiders were around. Sweeping and dishes, mostly, which was easy and stuff she’d been doing anyway but could do at a more normal hour now. At night, before they sent her to bed where she’d stay awake and listen to conversations she could overhear and think to herself, she’d hand out food and drinks to the people who sat at the tables. </p><p>Sometimes people (the majority being outsiders, but ones Ambarys deemed a non-threat or even a friend on the rare occasion) gave her money, mostly small amounts, and she figured it was because they found her and her ‘job’ cute. It was nice to have money, she guessed, but it wasn’t why she helped. She helped, in all honesty, because she didn’t like everyone she knew overworking themselves just to survive. They needed a break, and if her doing even the smallest bit helped, then she’d do it. </p><p>Eventually, after she turned ten, Ambarys let her go off on her own to get supplies, when they ran out in between shipments. She’d gone with him enough times when she was younger, so he told her what they needed, how much, what price she should expect, and how much she could press on bartering with each person. She nodded, head swimming with information, and hopped down off the ledge into the street of the Quarter. </p><p>The first person was a Bosmer named Elorrim, who came in and out of Windhelm at random, but usually had what people needed. Sevias had picked up years ago that he was not the fairest to most people, but Ambarys and he got along to some extent and so there was an understanding that prices were of little importance between them. It was easy enough to get what she needed, and for very cheap, since he knew her too. </p><p>The second was someone she’d never met, and Ambarys told her to buy at whatever price she was told and get out. Hyring Wolf-Child, on first impression, looked intimidating and very angry. She was scarred, across her arms, which was a characteristic that was familiar to Sevias but not comforting. Hyring didn’t look at her when she entered and continued to ignore her when she stepped up to the counter. It was only when Sevias put her arm partway across the surface, as far as she could reach even on her toes, that the other looked up. After that, it was a brief exchange. Hyring seemed ill-prepared for a child to be in her shop, and Sevias was equally unprepared for anything close to emotional, so the conversation was a lot of tip-toeing around. Sevias also, somehow, ended up with a candy as she went on her way, Hyring telling her to be careful at night. </p><p>(Whatever she meant by that was entirely lost on her as she tried to balance eating her candy and walking with an almost-full basket.) </p><p>The other things she had to get were far less eventful, and that was probably for the best. Yet even though she managed to do everything – and nearly perfectly! - Ambarys didn’t send her to get things all that much when he needed them. Mostly he went by himself, or Malthyr picked things up while he was out. She tried not to be upset at it, but it was hard. She was rarely allowed to leave the relative safety of home, of the Quarter, and go from the alleys into the streets. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Defining and Odd Events: 10-13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>not entirely happy w this one but i can't figure out why so. might change it later</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sevias left the Grey Quarter, sometimes, early in the morning, when few people were up and nothing was want to happen. She didn’t understand what Hyring had meant, months ago now, but she listened to the warning well enough.</p><p>(‘Be careful at night,’ she had said. In the Quarter, being careful meant avoiding, for the majority.)</p><p>She’d asked Malthyr for permission, deeming that the safer option, and he’d said she could as long as she didn’t get into trouble. Ambarys knew, and she wrote notes to leave on the counter when he wasn’t already awake to let him know where she was going. The first couple of times, she went to the graves and collected nightshade to tuck away for one of the older kids. He always seemed to be out of it, which was odd, considering it was everywhere. But soon, she knew where everything was, the nightshade was close to gone, and the chill was too familiar to be of any use.</p><p>So, she tried going to the richer houses, the ones connected to the gravesite. Mostly the place was only good for flowers, red and purple and blue. The guards watched her, wary of a strange child. Most of the kids avoided her or were dragged back into their houses before they could do anything. One of them, however, waved at her, smiling (he was older than the others, by a little bit, she noted, and even his parents were entirely unfamiliar). She gripped her basket tight with one hand, but nodded her head in return as she wandered off and back towards her home.</p><p>The third place she tried, with the others having been a bust, in the end, was the docks. There were new ships every day and the Nords tended to stick to the upper parts, made of stone, or their ships. There wasn’t much to collect, unfortunately, other than leather strips that had been dropped and knocked to the side or malformed wares she could jam into her pockets.</p><p>But no one chased her away, and things were always changing. So, she continued going down there, dodging around guards and sailors and workers.</p><p> </p><p>Summer was not warm in Windhelm, but it approached quick and left even faster, and thus Sevias spent as much of her time by the water as she could. It was down on one of the broken docks, half-sunken into the water, that she ran into the kids that lived around there. There were three, Argonians, and at first, none of them knew what to do at the sight of a stranger.</p><p>It was the oldest, she assumed, although they were all close in age to her, that recovered first and waved to her from where he was swimming in the water. She clenched her fists, missing her basket suddenly and violently, but eventually raised a hand in return. He grinned, sharp teeth glinting in the sun. She wondered if the water was cold to them, even if it evidently didn’t stop them from swimming in it. Curiosity won over wariness, and she treaded closer, sitting on the edge as the friendly one swam closer.</p><p>Her feet barely touched the water, which she was glad for. The water<em> was </em>cold, in a very unpleasant way.</p><p>“Hi!” said the kid, still smiling. “I haven’t seen you around before. I’m Scouts-Many-Marshes.” He was swimming just next to her, staying in place as best he could. She tilted her head towards him, unsure how to deal with anyone being so open at first outside of the Grey Quarter.</p><p>“I’m Sevias,” She muttered. She noticed the others were approaching them, and tucked her hands into her lap. “I... didn’t know there were kids around here.”</p><p>“There aren’t a lot of us,” One of the other kids said, finally reaching the dock. The girl pulled up onto a stable part, although it was still mostly in the water. “I’m Shahvee. My mom says she’s seen you picking things up around here before.”</p><p>“Is there not the same stuff where you live?” Another boy asked, head tilted. He had a harsher build, thinner than the others in a way that was familiar (though not comforting) and the same sharpness was reflected ever-so-slightly in his words.</p><p>Scouts-Many-Marshes turned his head, shooting a half-hearted glare. “Neetrenaza!” The sharp-built boy huffed and moved to sit next to Shahvee.</p><p>Sevias shook her head, answering the question anyway. “The blacksmith gets angry when I get too close and the entire place is picked clean by the time everyone leaves. This is the only place I can get leather, and wood chips, sometimes.” She hummed, picking at the edge of her sleeve, “There’s not a whole lot of flowers down here, though.” Unfortunate, really, since she’d been essentially chased out of the other places that had good flowers.</p><p>“Yeah,” Shahvee nodded, “there’s too much ice for most flowers to grow around us. The snowberries do well, but mom says they’re just resilient and like the cold.”</p><p>“Ambarys likes getting a bunch when we can so he can make stored food.” Sevias tapped her fingers to her palm, “I try to get some when I’m out on my own, but I don’t usually get enough.”</p><p>Their conversation continued like that for a while, exchanging information about places to get different things without getting caught or needing help. It only took a bit for Neetrenaza to stop being blatantly angry at her for being around, though she wasn’t entirely sure if he was still resentful of her presence when the other two invited her to play. And, while she wouldn’t have admitted it, she was happy to have found them, that day.</p><p> </p><p>She was thirteen when Vyn Aetlla stumbled into town. Stumbled was the most accurate way to describe it, as the woman had barely made her way into the Grey Quarter before promptly collapsing in front of an abandoned building. (Abandoned in a loose sense – people lived there still, but the guards weren’t aware of that and it was everyone’s job to keep it that way, which was why they knew she was there.) She could figure out easily enough why the woman didn’t stay out in the open, why she didn’t go to a Nord-heavy area – especially in Windhelm, but that was semantics. The woman was a Breton, though there was something undefinably off-putting about her even as she slept. But no one could make a guess as to why she decided the Grey Quarter was the place to go instead. In fact, most of the guesses seemed so ridiculously outlandish that it became something of a game while they waited for an answer.</p><p>But the woman didn’t wake up for several days. Ambarys had effectively been assigned to take care of her, which included Malthyr indirectly but not subtly, while everyone else watched from the sidelines, flittering away whenever either of them wandered too close and might have had a chance to recruit help.</p><p>“I don’t get why they don’t help, too,” She said, as she watched him cook one night, sitting comfortably on top of the table. “They brought her here.”</p><p>He shook his head, grimacing in a way that, a few years ago, she might not have pinned as such an expression. “They’re doing what they can. They have lives and routines that don’t involve this place. We work and live here, and, well... That makes us the most suited to take care of others.”</p><p>She didn’t miss the soft resentment in his tone, and neither did she miss the fact that she had been a similar force in his life. “There have to be others. She doesn’t need constant care, does she?”</p><p>Ambarys simply sighed and pointed to the stairs with his free hand. “Go get the box of herbs, would you?”</p><p>She looked at him for a moment longer, silvery-blue eyes sharp and piercing, before hopping down and skipping down the steps.</p><p> </p><p>(“Why do you think she came here?” Scouts-Many-Marshes asked, as they drew patterns in the snow.</p><p>“I don’t know. I don’t think anyone does.” Sevias shrugged, passing her stick to Shahvee and moving to sit on a box.</p><p>“She’s stupid, regardless of her reason,” Neetrenaza shook his head, frowning. “This is the worst place for her to have come, especially in her state.”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be so mean,” Shahvee rolled her eyes, finishing her circle and drawing intricate designs inside it. “We can’t judge until we hear her side.”)</p><p> </p><p>When Vyn did wake up, it wasn’t to any fanfare, which Sevias thought was rather unfair and not at all fitting for all the fuss her existence in the Cornerclub had caused. Ambarys hadn’t even been home, out getting supplies that he ‘couldn’t allow her to get’, and she had frowned at him, knowing he meant mead and wine but also that he used that excuse whenever she wanted to go out and do stuff for the Club these days.</p><p>But, Vyn woke up to an empty room. Sevias had been downstairs, cleaning and rearranging things to fit her taste better – even if all of her work would get destroyed by the end of the night, it was nice to be doing things.</p><p>Vyn gave her a good scare, as she trailed into the room, steps shaky but made with an air of confidence that Sevias doubted she’d have lost even when she was stumbling. She was hard to notice, despite the empty room and her being in the middle of a doorway. Sevias decided not to question that too much, distracting herself by offering her food and a drink, however little she could make and reach.</p><p>“Oh, no- no, thank you,” Vyn waved a hand in front of her, dismissive of the suggestion in an unsettled manner. “It’s nice of you to offer, though.”</p><p>“We’re a...”<em> Cornerclub </em>wasn’t used outside of the Quarter, was it? “Tavern. The owner isn’t here right now so I can’t offer nearly as much as normal, but it’s still our job.”</p><p>“Ah,” Vyn examined her some-what subtly, and she assumed the other was trying to discern something or other. “I suppose you are a bit young to own a business, but you were working so confidently...” She cracked a smile at her own joke, trailing off into her thoughts.</p><p>Sevias shook her head, mildly amused herself. “No, that would be Ambarys. He is, at the very least, twice my age, though I’ve never gotten a straight answer out of him.”</p><p>Vyn laughed, a loud and bright sound that didn’t match the dreary aura that followed her. Looking at the woman as she was awake and open-eyed, Sevias noted that her eyes were glowing faintly, and though they were mostly warm and friendly, something instinctual told her that she needed to get away fast. Then again, she’d never listened to anything reasonable so far and had little reason to start now.</p><p>“He should be on his way back soon, if you want to wait for him,” Sevias said, instead of any of her thoughts. Vyn instantly grew torn and shuffled her feet.</p><p>“I don’t know, I’ve already caused you all so much trouble...” More than she’d likely ever know, but that didn’t matter much. “Though I should thank him – apologize, maybe.”</p><p>“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” that was a lesson learned long ago, “but I do suggest you stay. You’ll only be hounded by everyone on the street anyway, at least it’s somewhat controlled here. If you want to listen to what Ambarys says.”</p><p>Vyn smiled again, and she guessed that it was supposed to be at the joke, but it was so full of relief and pain (old pain, a familiar look) that she wasn’t convinced.</p><p>And Ambarys did return soon after. Sevias grinned, full of mischief, as he looked at both of them, shocked to find Vyn awake and them talking. She was sent off to play almost immediately after Vyn expressed her thanks. She, leaving as she was told but not <em>happy </em>about it, peered into the Cornerclub and found them talking quietly as Ambarys moved what he’d retrieved into the backroom, none of their words reaching her. With a sigh, she trudged to the edge of the platform and hopped off, making her way to the docks for the first time in nearly half a week.</p><p> </p><p>Vyn didn’t leave, in the end. She insisted on paying for the cost of food and room, especially since they usually didn’t have people stay overnight (let alone multiple), and was apparently well off enough to pay for it with no trouble at all. She started living elsewhere as well, but was over often enough to talk with people that she apparently knew that she might as well have stayed.</p><p>Sevias thought, sometimes, that she looked lost when no one was paying attention. She referenced events that had happened long before she could have been born, knew of people who had been alive before Ambarys moved in, and had connections to families that no longer lived in Windhelm. No one brought it up since she was kind and friendly and new, but she also got upset at all of the rundown buildings and shut down businesses.</p><p>“I knew the owner,” She said, on one occasion. “He was such a patient man. I can’t believe this is what happened.”</p><p>Malthyr told her not to worry about the odd comments, that it was none of their business. Sevias disagreed, but Vyn was a good enough friend to the Quarter that she listened regardless.</p><p>However, it was those comments that caused her to notice that Vyn didn’t venture out in sunlight often, and when she did, it wasn’t for long. She was pale, still, and that had been chalked up to whatever had caused her to faint before, but no longer seemed to be the entire cause. She also didn’t eat, unless it contained mostly meat and little else. Not that Sevias pointed any of her observations out – she liked Vyn, considered her part of the group of people she trusted, even if there was something she was obviously keeping secret from them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Life of Fighting: 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She told Malthyr she wanted to learn to fight, while the celebration for her fourteenth birthday died down. He looked at Ambarys, back at her, and sighed in resignation. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” He asked. It was mostly rhetorical, but she shook her head anyway. </p><p>“I should know how,” She insisted. “People come here all the time to pick on us. What if they get violent? What if I have to defend myself? The guards won’t help me, if they even see it happen.” </p><p>He ran a hand through his hair, and she fought down a grin. She knew she’d win the ‘argument,’ at least with him, especially since all of her points were ones she’d taken from him. “And this is only for self-defense? No other things you’re trying to do?” </p><p>“Just self-defense,” She agreed. It didn’t feel like a lie to say, and that was what counted, she thought. Granted, she also hadn’t really thought about any other reason she’d need to fight at that point. </p><p>And she did learn, a little, under Malthyr and Ambarys. They understood her and her boundaries, which she appreciated, but it wasn’t enough. They were too careful, like she could break, like she was still the child they had been given and not a nearly grown elf who did things without their guidance already. So, she ventured out, trying to find someone who would teach her what she wanted to know, without seeing her as just a kid. </p><p>Her friends knew little, which she expected, but their parents were more aware of strangers and newcomers. They weren’t open about sharing their information, even though they’d known her for years now, and Sevias was willing to leave it at that and work with the little they’d given her. Shahvee, however, refused to let that happen and managed to talk them into giving her a name and description of the person, along with where they saw her going every time she left. </p><p>Scouts didn’t like the idea of her going into the forest alone (none of them did), so he went with her. While she was glad for the company, she couldn’t help but feel like it might have been faster to go alone – he got distracted by many things, and while freezing water never seemed to bother him, the cold air and snow did. </p><p>But they trudged along, talking and laughing, until they came to a small, slapped-together hut. A fire was going, judging by the smoke rising from inside, and there was the sound of talk floating from it, though she couldn’t make out any distinct words. </p><p>“This has to be it,” Scouts whispered, grabbing her arm. </p><p>She nodded in response, before walking towards the door. Immediately, Scouts was nervous, but he followed her, which she was immensely grateful for. She heard him muttering about how stupid an idea it was to just knock, even as she did it. </p><p> </p><p>The woman that she’d been told about was a Breton, Modhnne. She lived with a Redguard named Adasa. It didn’t take much to convince them to teach her, she thought. Mostly, Modhnne taught dagger-work and useful spells for gossip and going-ons. Adasa deemed persuasion and archery the most survivable method, and she taught for free most of the time. Arrows and bowstrings were a price randomly requested, but she tended to make her own. </p><p>Scouts didn’t come with her often and didn’t need to, though Adasa did like seeing him. Sevias thought, sometimes, that they liked having people to mentor and take care of, to some extent. </p><p>Most of her training was simple. Hard work and exhausting, but simple. They didn’t fight complicated, didn’t see fighting as an art but something to be used as a tool. They didn’t teach honor but did teach loyalty. </p><p>“If I know one thing, it’s that clever hands can hide spells from those who expect only a blade.” Modhnne grinned, sharp as the dagger she handed her. “The trick is to use words. If they’re dumb enough, it can even be theirs.” </p><p>“And how many people have you done this to?” Sevias frowned, the expression a mix of Malthyr and Ambarys’ in her wariness. Modhnne had not led her astray yet, but she was not as patient as her mentor. </p><p>“Plenty. Being an adventurer does that, as does living in a forest,” She shrugged, like it meant nothing to her. Maybe it didn’t. “But it doesn’t have to be a damaging spell. It can be anything. Use what you have, not what you want to have.” </p><p>Well, at least she was used to that. She nodded, and they took a few steps away from each other as they truly started practicing. </p><p> </p><p>Sevias told Ambarys and Malthyr about Adasa and Modhnne, couldn’t really avoid it since some of the lessons required that she was gone for two or three days in a row. They sent food with her, sometimes as a gift, especially when hunting was hard and the weather was extremely harsh. Malthyr tried, a couple times, to gift more valuable things, like an old heirloom that Sevias had never seen before, as thanks, but Modhnne always sent them back. They didn’t keep anything that wasn’t food or drink, though there were some personal trinkets in the hut. Sevias assumed most were from adventures or childhood, but she didn’t hear the stories for most of them. </p><p>A few times, Ambarys sent a letter with her, written on miscellaneous scraps of paper that had been stuffed away for Azura knows how long. She wondered why he didn’t just tell her what needed to be said, since they usually did, and it wasn’t like Modhnne kept much charcoal on hand. Granted, adults were weird and did so many things that made so little sense to her. Modhnne wrote back sometimes but generally gave vague replies – if she bothered to reply at all. </p><p>Eventually, she was told to let the two know that they were welcome at the Cornerclub if they ever needed anything. The invitation was the first thing that Modhnne had openly reacted to, with a laugh (although it was not unkind) and a shake of her head. </p><p>“While I’d love to meet your family, and they seem to want to meet me, we live out here for a reason, kid.” Modhnne stood, grabbing more sticks to put in the fire. Adasa hardly glanced up from where she was sat, tuning her lute, as Modhnne passed by and crouched down next to the pit. </p><p>“You don’t live that far,” Sevias pointed out, deciding not to focus on the fact that this was the first time anyone had directly called Ambarys or Malthyr (let alone both) her family for now. “And it would only be for a couple of hours, at most.” </p><p>She shook her head, more firmly this time, jaw set as she watched the flames eat the sticks she slowly placed in the fire. “We could argue back and forth on this all night, but I’ll tell you right now it’ll get you nowhere. I live out here; <em> we </em> live out here,” She inclined her head to Adasa. “And I will remain until everything around me burns away. Perhaps even until I burn too.” </p><p>Sevias took a half-step towards her, “Modhnne, that’s-” </p><p>“Don’t.” Modhnne stood, finally, but whether that was because she was upset or simply because she’d run out of sticks, Sevias didn’t know. She went back into the hut without saying anything more. While there were no signs of her being angry, Sevias couldn’t help but feel like she had messed up somewhere, said the wrong thing. </p><p>Adasa sighed, finally looking up, as she set her lute down. “It’s not your fight.” She was trying to comfort, Sevias knew, however out of practice she might be at it. “Our battle – her battle – is over now, and...” She frowned, trailing off as she thought about something. The specifics she was willing to divulge, probably. “Sev, let me tell you, as a mentor and a friend... Yours are only beginning. Pick your war, and pick it carefully.” </p><p>She blinked a few times, unsure where things had shifted to focus on her, and looked away to the fire. It was consuming everything, she thought, or at least it seemed like it to her. Which didn’t make sense when all Modhnne had done was feed it with more sticks. But it was growing there, in the pit, and she thought for a moment that the world might be--</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading! please leave a comment and tell me what you thought!<br/>come yell at me @ witchapedia-aus on tumblr!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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